by Grea Warner
“Look, I’ve had a long day. There’s a lot going on,” Ryan admitted, and I couldn’t help but think the man standing in front of us didn’t even know the half of it. “And I am not going to get into this with you. If you’re not going to have the common courtesy to leave, then we will. Please delete those photos. Kids, let’s go ... car.”
It didn’t matter that Ryan and I had a disagreement the day before or that it hadn’t been resolved and was still very heavy on top of us. We would stand united in public and for the children. Ryan offered his hand to Sallie, who readily took it, and I started walking with Joel, who I think was still more concerned about the cookies than his father’s words or actions involving the man with the supposed press credentials.
The circulating natural air felt so refreshing and welcoming as we made our way outdoors. In a way, it was kind of nice we had to make a hasty exit. I didn’t feel much like mixing and mingling with the rest of the friends and families at the performance. Even though everyone in general was accepting of me, the day camp had been Kari’s gig ... Kari’s territory. They were her friends—for as much as she could have had any with her hectic schedule. What I really wanted was to be home and have an honest, good conversation with the man I loved.
Trying to keep his voice low, Ryan was asking more to himself than me why anyone even associated with the press was allowed into the show. I tried to rationalize with him that it wasn’t a publicized event and that only the camp members and family knew about it. So, who would ever think press would know or even want to attend?
“I’d say I can’t believe Irene—” Ryan started.
“Who was that guy?” Sallie, who was then walking a little ahead of us with Joel, turned in our direction.
“He’s ... What did he ask you, Joe? Did you say anything to him?” Ryan answered with a question of his own.
Joel almost came to a complete stop as he looked at both of us. “He was asking about Mommy.”
“He—"
Before Ryan could get anything more out, Joel announced, “I didn’t say anything. He is a stranger.” He did a dramatic, confident one-nod. “And Isaac’s mom told him he better talk with you.”
“So, so smart. I got two great kids,” he proudly boasted as we walked another step or two.
“Here’s the car.” I hit the remote to unlock the Audi. We had arrived before Ryan—his late arrival making for him to have a worse parking space. “Go ahead and get in.” I signaled to the kids.
“That’s all right, they can go in mine.”
“It’s fine.” I opened the back door for Sallie and Joel.
“No, I know you need a break. You haven’t had any time to yourself.” Did he recite my words from that morning in mockery or simply to be considerate? “I’ll take them,” he reiterated in a tone that squashed any further discussion.
Sallie’s roaming eyes from her father to me and back again, confirmed the conclusion. She didn’t need to bear witness to even the slightest conflict between Ryan and me again. Especially after hearing her unicorn story, I knew she needed to believe in happiness winning out.
Spotting Wells exiting the building’s doors and knowing Ryan didn’t want to give the reporter even one more chance at a question or photograph, I said, “See you at home.”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “Let’s go.” He put a hand on each of the kids’ backs, and they scurried at a faster pace into the depths of the packed parking lot.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Sure, there were times when I wished I had a moment to myself. But driving back to the house alone was not one of those. It gave me too much time to think and question all of Ryan’s words and actions that evening. From skipping dinner, to the late arrival, to the distracted phone gazing ... to his insistence on leaving with the kids. What did it all mean? What part did I play in it? And how did it match up with what I wanted to say to him?
Since I got home first and needed to keep my mind as decluttered as possible, I decided to text my family the photos of Sallie and Joel from post-show. I was surprised to get a bunch of emojis and a congrats message right back since it was later at night on their side of the country. But it was Ella, and she usually stayed up late. Hearing the garage door open, I thanked my sister via text and went into the kitchen with Lyric to fill his water bowl.
Ryan and the kids didn’t enter the actual house immediately, though. It was quite a few minutes before I heard the garage door shut once again and then the door to the breezeway open. Why hadn’t they gotten out of the car right away? I wasn’t concerned about carbon monoxide. I was worried about another possible Ryan-delay tactic. They were already returning home later than I had expected.
“I still wanna go to your office.” I heard Joel say.
“You will.” Ryan’s voice filled the kitchen as the three of them entered.
“There’s the superstar.” I put on the biggest smile I could for Sallie, considering the uneasiness that laid underneath my heart. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to really tell you, but you did great, Sals. It was such an amazing story. How do you feel?”
She looked up a little shyly at me, and Ryan smoothed his hand along the back of her head. “I didn’t know there would be so many people.”
“Yeah,” I acknowledged the show’s large crowd. “Were you nervous?”
“A lot.” Her eyes opened a bit more.
“Well, you didn’t show it.”
“Like you,” the little girl replied to me as Joel started kissing/wrestling with the dog on the kitchen floor.
“Me?”
She nodded. “On Daddy’s show ... in front of all those people.”
“Yeah.” When I looked at Ryan, leaning against the center island, he actually gave me a smile. “But I was definitely nervous, too. You know what got me through?”
“Huh?” Her one word was filled with the anticipation that I was going to give her a golden ticket to feigning off stage fright.
I spoke the honest truth about my unexpected performance on Singer Spotlight’s part-one finale a year before. “Just focusing on your dad. I only saw him. I forgot everyone else was watching. He made it okay.”
I peered over at the man himself. Ryan’s dead-on look at me was mesmerizing, as if he was back there a year before on that soundstage, too. Could he—we—make it okay again?
“Yeah. I think I want to still be a teacher when I grow up ... and maybe write ... but not read it to anybody!” She trained my thoughts back to her.
“First of all, Sallie, you have plenty of time to decide. And, second, you will be successful in anything you do. Having a great teacher means everything.” I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I surveyed my eyes past a still-attentive Ryan on my way to looking at his son. “Joel? Still want to be a lifeguard?”
“I am going to be the next Avenger and protect everyone!” He sprung his arms out and started to pretend-fly around the room.
“Oh, brother.” Ryan rolled his eyes and shook his head in fake exasperation. “Super-Joel and Sallie, take the dog out, please. And then I want you to go right after and put on your pj’s. Bethany and I need to talk.”
“Daddy, are you going to tell her—”
“The dog, please,” Ryan interrupted Joel. “Unless you want to clean up the pee he is surely going to do on the floor after so much water and wrestling.”
“Ewww! No.” Joel’s nose scrunched. “I’ll take care of him forever.” He really was extra cautious with Lyric since the LEGO incident. And after learning of his anxiety about anyone being sick, I understood why.
Sallie suddenly bombarded my legs in a powerful embrace. I hugged her back and gave a sliver of a smile as she walked off with Joel and Lyric. There was suddenly a pit in my stomach. Something was up. I could feel it. Sure, things were still tense between Ryan and me. That I had thought about. That I knew we could talk through. But it was more. Standing alone with him in the kitchen ... his straightforward, emotionless face made me fearful.
“Ryan?”
I practically whispered with every ounce of ache, frustration, confusion, and love going into his name.
“You really want it?” he asked, practically bracing himself against the counter.
“Want?” I suddenly realized how incredibly silent the house was without the dog or children in our immediate presence.
“The Nashville gig.”
“I told you I did. But I’m being selfish. And I’m sorry I didn’t stop to understand what you were trying to say about being apart and how it changes ... well, how it changes everything.”
The early morning cafe opening had done me a lot of good. I had really settled my brain down and thought things through a little more rationally rather than emotionally. I realized his fears were justified, even if they had little to do with me. The scars Kari had left on him by becoming a different person and being away on tour so much changed him forever. He wouldn’t be able to simply dismiss that it might not happen again. And I wouldn’t want him to. It would change the man he was and the one I desperately loved.
“Well, I want out.” He said it so matter-of-fact, it was kind of scary.
No ... it was downright frightening. He wanted out? He wanted out of us? Because I wanted an opportunity to advance my career? I had apologized. I said I understood. And he wanted out? What?
In case I didn’t comprehend, he added, “And I want the kids out.”
“What are you talking about?” I managed to ask while the pit in my stomach turned to nausea. “I l—"
I didn’t get to tell him I loved him because his next word was pure devastation. “Leave.”
“Leave?” I repeated.
I was replaying in my head the night of our very first date. Back then he had said that same word to me. He had practically pushed me out the door when he had found the syringe in my purse. Of course, he hadn’t known it was for my allergy. But what wasn’t he getting now? And how could I make him understand? I was too stunned to react. Every single emotion was bombarding inside my brain, trying to compete to see which one was the one that was going to kill me. I couldn’t leave anywhere because I couldn’t move.
“I talked with the producers of the Nashville show today like you asked.” He hadn’t moved either, and he had just said something that seemed almost like a change of subject.
“You what?” I managed. “Ryan, what are you talking about? I’m so upset right now. I don’t care about Nashville. I care that you want out.”
Dang it. Threatening tears were burning behind my eyes. I didn’t understand any of what he was saying. And, at the same account, I didn’t know that I wanted to.
“Bethany, listen to what—”
I was starting to hear my own breathing because it was becoming erratic. “What? I ... I’m trying, but—”
“They came up with a compromise. You could totally hate this. They love it. I have to say it is kind of interesting.”
“Ryan!” I screamed, and I didn’t care who heard. “What are you talking about?”
“I talked with the producers of the Nashville show,” he repeated his previous statement. But maybe he needed to since it was taking everything in me to comprehend. “They proposed that they put both of us on the show. What do you think?”
“Huh?”
“They’re still looking for one more person to be on a team for the business side.”
I was trying desperately to follow his line of conversation. “You?”
“Yeah. Since it’s the same production company as Spotlight, they offered to get me released from there and be on the new show. Sonny was actually instrumental in all of this ... your initial offer and bringing me over. I guess dessert and drinks here the other night really made an impression. So, the Spotlight people were who I was meeting with at dinner time.”
“Oh.” Things were starting to ... “Oh.”
“It was easier in person. And then we got the Nashville folks on the line to see if we could iron it out completely.”
“You’re talking about us both leaving. Both of us leaving California? We would both do the show in Nashville?”
“Yeah,” he was back to his matter-of-fact voice. “They’re pitching us as the spouse team or spouse versus spouse.”
“Spouse ...”
“We’ll be married by then.”
I swear I was ready to vomit. The jacked-up emotional ride I was going through was enough to make me do it. But, thankfully, I hadn’t had much in my stomach.
Instead, I spit out words. “I thought ... I thought ...”
“What?” For the first time, I think he truly understood how upset I was. He reached his arm out to my shoulder.
“I thought you wanted me to leave. I thought you were kicking me out. I thought ... Oh, gosh. You scared me so bad. I’m not even sure what we are talking about right now.”
“Lenay ...”
“Ry?” I rubbed my eyes, surely displacing mascara everywhere.
“Ye—”
“Can you hold me, please?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” And he masterfully enveloped me in his arms.
My body was on fire. I knew it was from the heat of my blood pressure and anxiety. And laying against his taut torso only made me warmer, but I didn’t care.
He pulled me arm’s length away and tilted his head toward mine. “Okay? You okay? Can we maybe be on the same page now? No one is leaving anyone. At least I hope not.”
“We’re just going to be the next Blake and Gwen.”
“Ha! Ha!” He legitimately laughed, which was so welcoming to hear. “I’m no Cowboy.”
“I’m no blonde.”
“No, you’re not.” The smile rose on his face as he touched my long, brunette hair. “But interesting, right?”
“Yeah. Definitely.” Definitely since I knew what was actually happening and we could be together. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why didn’t you call and let me know what was going on? I was so mad at you for skipping dinner. I thought you were avoiding me.”
“I know.” One side of his mouth curled up in regret as he softly touched my face. “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it really had feet ... that it was a strong possibility. There were a lot of pieces to fit together. I didn’t want to risk putting it out there and then for it to be another no.”
Oh. “Oh. Okay. I guess I understand that.” I understood him.
“And I wanted to wait and have it be me who was telling you ... not your manager.” His sweet sentiment only lasted a second, though, because it made me think.
“But you are a manager. How will you be able to film in Nashville and still—"
“You know when I’m doing Spotlight, everyone else at the office is basically doing the other work. They know what they’re doing. I want to—I need to—spend more time with you and the kids. Since I won’t be able to be hands-on in the city, though, I’d relinquish most of it to them more officially.”
“Ryan, no,” I denied, knowing my fiancé. “That is you. You love your business. You built your business. It is what—”
“I love the kids and I love you.” He spoke with precision and confidence. “And then, yes, I love my business. It was what I dreamed of and thrived for. And I’ll still have it. It will just be like a mini break while we get settled and married and begin the show. And I’m sure I’ll do some remote stuff. Then I can start a branch in Nashville. It really is Music City. It’s a better place for you to grow and learn professionally. Plus, there’s not as much entertainment industry and cameras everywhere.” He seemed to sigh in relief on that fact.
“So, you’re talking about moving to Nashville permanently?”
“Yeah, if that’s what you want. I didn’t say yay or nay to the show deal. But it is worked out. I got the final confirmation right as Sallie’s show was starting tonight. I said I needed to talk with you first.”
“What I didn’t do with you,” I lamented, not able to meet his eyes.
“Hey.” He gently lifted my chin with two of his fingers so we w
ere once again eye-to-eye. “I have baggage, and I should have first and foremost told you how phenomenally proud I am of you.”
We both needed to let each other’s transgressions go. We should have done so the night before. But it had all still been too fresh and emotional.
“The kids,” I changed the subject instead. “What about them with all of this?”
He pressed his lips firmly together, almost as if he was trying to repress his emotions.
“Obviously, I was concerned about how this change would affect them. So, one of the first things I did was talked with their counselor. We discussed holding on to key things like the photos, and jewelry, and stuffed animals to preserve the memories but also getting away from the sad ones. I think it will be good, especially after the garbage that went down at the talent show. They don’t need to be here and some of the ... If Maks wants to see them, he can visit. And maybe we’ll need some trips to LA. But they’ll have me and you consistently.”
His inclusion of me made me do a temporary detour of the Nashville subject. “Ryan, what you said to the reporter about me having the rights or whatever with the kids ... I know you were grandstanding ...”
“Not. At. All,” he punctuated with determination. “You’re not just marrying me. You’re essentially marrying all three of us. I want to make that official. I know we haven’t talked about it. But before Kari died it really wasn’t a consideration, I guess. Well, you can think about it. Sheez, I know there’s a lot to think about.”
“What? I don’t understand.” Add it to my list of overwhelming discussion topics.
“How do you feel about adopting them?” He made it crystal clear, and my bottom lip gaped from the top. “Really becoming their ...”
He stumbled on the word I was sure was going to be “mom.” Even though Sallie had used it for me outside of my presence and I basically acted as one for the two of them, Kari was, and forever would be, their mother. And she should be. I would never want to take that away.
“Their parent.” He settled with, and, in all actuality, since our blowup regarding that word, it was even more meaningful. “You’d have every right as me,” Ryan said and then emphasized, “There’d be no difference. Sort of like—"
